"We could go back," he said without much hope.

Percy shook his head.

"There were other trucks, remember? I'm sure the other drivers came back. It's too late now."

Matthias winced. Those words hurt too. Too late, too late. . He'd made a decision in a split second, when he wasn't thinking of anyone but himself and Percy and Alia. His aching hand clenched, like he was still holding the nail, still had a chance to make a different decision. A deci^ sion that wouldn't leave any innocent children dead.

But it was too late.

'And Alia?" he whispered. "Is she—?"

"She's still sleeping," Percy said, pointing.

Matthias raised himself on one elbow so he could see the little girl, lying flat on her back on a bed of leaves nearby.

"She's unconscious," he corrected Percy.

"Same thing," Percy said.

"No." Matthias shook his head. Why didn't Percy understand? Sleep was what healthy children did when they were tired. Unconscious was someone sick, someone on the verge of death.

"I washed her wounds," Percy said. "I tore off a piece of her nightgown for a bandage for her head. I made sure it was a clean part of the nightgown."

Like that's going to matter, Matthias thought.

Percy was looking at Matthias strangely.

"I don't think any of the Population Police saw us escape," Percy said. "No one followed us. I found a stream with clear water and a tree that had all sorts of nuts underneath it. It wasn't hard to get them open with a rock. So we have food."

Matthias knew what Percy was doing. This was a game that Samuel had taught them. When times were bad, they always recited all the good things they could think of. Matthias was supposed to add to the list, then finish with, And God loves us. But the only good thing that Matthias could think of was, Alia's not dead yet. And that was a blessing with a curse hidden inside it. "Not dead yet" just meant that the full weight of Matthias's pain and grief was lurking a little ways ahead.